


Terrified Fury

by SelanPike



Category: MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-30
Updated: 2011-11-30
Packaged: 2017-10-26 17:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/285866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SelanPike/pseuds/SelanPike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You never suspected that Pickle Inspector might be the type who could use shadow magic. You knew that he had issues, sure, a man as neurotic as him would have to. But you never suspected he had the sort of pain and fury needed for that sort of thing.<br/>You never would have guessed it, but there it was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terrified Fury

**Author's Note:**

> I got this idea while reading some headcanons by [Path](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Path/pseuds/Path). They're very nice and well-thought-out, go [have a look](http://shiftingpath.tumblr.com/post/12336510765/pathcanon-9-shadow-magic).

            You never suspected that Pickle Inspector might be the type who could use shadow magic. You knew that he had issues, sure, a man as neurotic as him would have to. But you never suspected he had the sort of pain and fury needed for that sort of thing.

            You never would have guessed it, but there it was.

            You’re accosted by some troublemakers in an alley. Apparently they’d given Inspector trouble in the past, you aren’t clear on the details. They start taunting Inspector. You reach into your coat for your deck of cards, but you end up not needing it.

            The hooligans don’t get hurt, unfortunately. It’s just a small, uncontrolled blast of purple fire, one that shoots off in the wrong direction. It’s enough to scare them away. Which is good, because Inspector is too busy curling up into a ball to fight them off, and you’re simply too dumbstruck.

            You replay it in your head a few times. That look of terrified fury crossing Inspector’s features, and then the blast. That look, and then…

            You crouch down and take him by the shoulders. He looks up at you with his wide eyes brimming with tears. He’s been learning about shadow magic from you. It fascinated him until he learned the sort of toll it took on a person, the sort of darkness it took to use in the first place. He looks at you, afraid, knowing what it was that he just unleashed. He stutters, incomplete phonemes that fail to form words, and you kiss him.

            He relaxes until you pull away and ask him if he can do it again.

            It was the wrong thing to say. You know that, but you have to see it again. In fact, you want to see him keep using that magic whenever the whim strikes him. There is a part of you, a very substantial part, that wants to make Inspector more like you. You want him to abandon that damn do-gooder lifestyle of his, you want him to lash out at whoever tries to hurt him. Most of all, you want to break him.

            And this is an opportunity. That magic could break him so much quicker than you ever could, and it isn’t hindered by this miserable affection that keeps your destructive tendencies in check. It would tear him apart and you could remake him however you want.

            There’s another part of you that knows he wouldn’t be the same if you did that. He wouldn’t be Pickle Inspector. That’s the part of you that takes over once Inspector starts crying.

            “No, no, no,” he repeats through sobs. “I—I can’t…”

            You wrap your arms around him. He hunches down even lower than before, hiding his face in your chest. You hope he isn’t getting snot on your suit.

            “I—I’m a monster,” he whimpers, “A monster. Please… please don’t make me…”

            Your mind races. You could act indignant at that. _Oh, a monster? What do you think of me then?_ Keep him off balance, keep him scared. Hurt him. Then surely, he’ll…

You shoosh him. “I’m sorry,” you say, although you aren’t. Not completely, anyway.

            You help him to his feet. He leans on you as you walk, wiping his tears on his sleeve. He asks you if there are any good ways to control shadow magic, to keep it suppressed.

            You take a deep breath. You tell him yes, you’ll show him how.


End file.
